


The Princess of Harlan County

by Pidgey



Series: It takes a daughter... [1]
Category: Justified
Genre: Gen, Kid Fic, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 18:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9198092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pidgey/pseuds/Pidgey
Summary: Left alone and lost Boyd suddenly finds himself faced with some of his late brother's dirty laundry and finds a new purpose. AU from season 2 episode 5. WIP: glacially slow updates.





	

The first thing he is aware of is the throbbing pain in his head. Boyd lifts his head off of his arms and groans as pain jolts up his back and neck, momentarily confused about why he was sleeping at the kitchen table. Wiping a line of drool from his chin he stares vacantly at the tumbler in the small puddle of bourbon on the table. In the dim morning light of the dining room, he sits in the chair where his brother died, where he himself had been shot, where he had sat with Ava after the incident at the mine, and wonders what woke him from his drunken stupor. He grabs the mostly empty liquor bottle and contemplates the remaining eighth. He brings it to his lips as the phone begins ringing again.

“Ahh goddamn,” Boyd brings his hand to his temple as his head throbs again. He stumbles towards the phone wondering who the fuck was calling this early. Couldn’t be for him, only people who knew he’d been renting a room off of Ava would also know not to call the house rather than his mobile.

“’Llo?” he rasps into the receiver. Clearing his throat roughly, “Hello,” he tries again.

“Mr Crowder?” a soft feminine voice questions.

“Speaking. Who is this?”

“Mr Crowder, this is Officer Alicia Meadow. Are you able to come by the station? We need to speak to you.”

Boyd suddenly felt alert, “May I ask what this is regarding? “

“Your daughter is here at the station, she is completely fine, there was no emergency contact listed and we have been unable to get in contact with her mother leaving you as her next of kin. There is… another matter, we do need to talk to you in person. Are you able to come down this morning?”

“What in the hell are you talking about? What daughter?” Boyd frowns.

“Alejandra Hernandez? You are listed as her father. This is Bowman Crowder speaking?”

Boyd slumps against the wall. Bowman. He hadn’t thought about his brother in months. The asshole had a daughter? He had no idea.

“Boyd” he croaks.

“I’m sorry sir?”

“My name is Boyd Crowder. Bowman was my brother, he is dead.”

“I’m sorry… This was his listed address… I just assumed…” the woman sounded slightly panicked realising her mistake. She takes a deep breath, “I am sorry for my mistake Mr Crowder. Do you know the current contact information for your niece’s mother?”

“My niece,” Boyd feels his throat tighten, “my niece. No. I don’t know her contact information.” I don’t know her name, thinks Boyd. “Am I able to come see my niece?”

Officer Meadow hesitates, “We are only able to release the child to a parent or guardian but you may keep her company until we can locate her mother.”

Boyd jots down the address the woman gives him for the station one town over, lets her know he will be there in an hour, calmly hangs the phone back on its base and sinks to the floor. He runs his hand over his face and covers his mouth. Staring at the slip of paper he let out a shaky laugh.

“Fuck Bowman. Did Ava know?” he mutters, a slight pang in his chest as he thinks of her. Did she pretend it wasn’t happening like she did with the abuse? Drink when Bowman visited the other woman? He doubted Bowman sent the girl birthday cards. Did he give a single shit about a little girl with a clearly Spanish name growing up just one town over? Was she even little? The officer hadn’t given details. Was he going to meet a teenager arrested over some youthful indiscretion?

After a time, maybe a minute, maybe ten, Boyd swears again and starts to pull himself together. His brutal hangover from a night drowning his sorrows lowly reasserting itself. He tried his best to shake it off-he had a niece to meet.

* * *

 

Boyd steps into the police station tugging anxiously at his sleeve. He tried to muster his usual swagger and confidence. It came so easily when he was confronting Raylan, or being dragged in on suspicion of some illicit activity or other. It was easy when all he needed was to intimidate or aggravate, that one was especially easy, but here… Here he was out of his element. Johnny wasn’t speaking to him, Bowman was dead, his daddy was dead, his mama was long gone. To find out he had blood here floored him in the strangest way.

He approaches the desk sergeant, a young round faced officer with several small scars marring his smooth face like someone had smashed a glass on him. Boyd clears his throat and the boy looks up at him,

“Can I help ya sir?”

“Yes, I’m here to see,” Boyd fumbles a second for the name, he’d been so tired and it had been so quick, “…Alejandra?”

“Oh. Can I see some ID? Yeah, ok. She’s with Officer Meadow, one moment.” He hands Boyd back his license, picks up the phone and presses a key, “Yeah Alicia, the uncle is here, yeah, yeah, I’ll send him through.”

He sets down the phone and waves Boyd through into the bull pen, “She’s in the third office on the right there.”

Boyd nods to him but isn’t looking at the young man anymore. He is fixated on the office door and moves forward without any actual intention, as if compelled by some other force. He knocks gently and the door swings open to reveal a small blonde woman with a hard look on her face. She steps out of the office closing the door behind her, catching the way Boyd cranes to try to see into the room.

“Mr Crowder, Officer Meadow.” He shakes her hand, her grip firm, “A moment please.”

She looks at him, assessing, he hopes his eyes aren’t too bloodshot and his clothes neat enough to pass muster, “Now Mr Crowder we have quite an unusual situation here. First, am I correct in guessing that before I called you this morning you were unaware of your niece’s existence?”

Boyd considers lying, but the sharp look in Meadow’s eyes says it wasn’t really a question, “That is correct ma’am. My brother Bowman was not exactly forthcoming about any… extra-marital activities. He never mentioned a child.”

She narrows her eyes, “This morning officers found Elizabeth Hernandez, Alejandra’s grandmother, deceased, seems like natural causes. Woman was in her 80’s. That's what I couldn't tell you on the phone-it's protocol. She’s been dead at least a day, maybe two, neighbours heard the girl crying. Bowman Crowder is listed as the father on the girl’s birth certificate and one Isabella Hernandez listed as the girl’s mother. We can’t get a hold of Isabella and we’ve yet to find any other relatives. I can’t release her to you but at the moment you’re the best I’ve got”

Boyd nods, “Can I meet her?” He knows he sounds anxious and eager but he can’t muster the energy to keep his poker face.

She crosses her arms “I’ll be honest with you Mr Crowder, I pulled your records after we got off the phone. I called a friend down in Harlan county, he recommends I don’t let you within a hundred feet of this little girl.”

Boyd feels his stomach clench, “Then what, pray tell, am I doing here?”

The officer sighs and scrubs a hand over her face, “I know her mother; Isabella Hernandez is one of Craig Cullen’s girls. He runs prostitution and a small meth operation in this town. He’s a slippery bastard and we can never make anything stick to him or his girls. I know she uses, I know she doesn’t give a rat’s ass about that little girl, I didn’t even know she had a daughter before today, and I know there’s nothing I can do right now about Alejandra getting released into her custody. I called for Bowman because it’s protocol, I brought you in because you sounded like you might care. I know your kind cares about blood and if you care about that girl even a little that makes you the lesser of two evils. She needs someone looking out for her until I can get her out of her mother’s custody.”

Boyd nods tightly. He glances at the office door again before turning back to the officer and saying sincerely, “Before this morning I didn’t know she existed but I promise you ma’am, I mean her no harm.”

Officer Meadow stares at him appraisingly for a long moment before opening the door and waving Boyd in. He steps into the room and his eyes fix on the small child laying on the floor surrounded by papers and crayons.  He briefly glanced at the sofa against one wall with a rumpled blanket. The girl was scribbling fiercely, her long dark hair obscuring her face. He approaches slowly, “Well hello young lady, my name is Boyd. May I sit?”

Alejandra looks up at him sharply as if just noticing his presence. She has fierce, dark eyes for such a tiny girl, calculating and thoughtful. She looks to the officer and speaks in rapid Spanish pointing at Boyd. Meadow responds, also in Spanish. Boyd looks at her sharply.

“She doesn’t speak much English,” Meadow explains.

“I gathered that,” Boyd says, his voice carefully level, “you didn’t think that was pertinent information?”

The officer shrugs and turns to Alejandra again. They continue to converse for a moment and Boyd takes the opportunity to observe Alejandra. She seemed about four years old and was wearing a pink shirt with a cartoon character on it Boyd didn’t recognize, blue jeans and pink sneakers. She would look clearly out of place at a Crowder family reunion but there was a sharpness to her features and a keenness in her expression that tugged at Boyd.

“I told her you’re her uncle and that you can’t speak her language. The desk sergeant is still trying to locate her mother but you’re welcome to keep her company until then.” She sits at the desk and pulls a stack of paperwork towards her. Boyd glares at her, beginning to suspect part of the reason he was allowed to meet his niece was so that this shrewd woman didn’t have to babysit.

He sinks to the floor cross legged and stares at the girl. She is engrossed in her drawing, crayons flying furiously in shades of pink and yellow. Boyd takes in her appearance, unmistakably Hispanic but Boyd can see the ghost of Bowman in some of her features, in her nose, her mouth. But her eyes, they came straight from Boyd’s mother. He thought he’d never see those eyes again.

He is broken out of his contemplation by a piece of paper being shoved abruptly under his nose. Alejandra is staring at him imploringly. He takes the paper with a confused look on his face and she thrusts two crayons in a clenched fist and saying something in Spanish with a stern look and exasperated tone. From her desk Meadows sniggers.

“She said, ‘stop staring and make yourself useful.’”

Boyd raises and eyebrow, wondering if that was something the girl had heard her grandmother say. He begins to scribble on the paper tracing out a tree with the orange crayon he had been handed while watching his niece.

After a moment she sidles next to him and sets her drawing on his knee, pointing at it and animatedly explaining. Boyd follows her finger as it traces out what appears to be a pink pony and points to a cat or dog shaped blob with a smiley face. She looks at Boyd expectantly and he flounders for a moment before smiley broadly.

“I like this very much,” he says slowly and clearly, smiling widely and trying to inject as much warmth into his tone as he could. Alejandra nods seriously and begins to colour on Boyd’s paper next to his lonely tree. Boyd feels like he has passed some kind of test. He continues drawing and listening contentedly to the girl’s childish babbling. He hasn’t spent much time around children but he is certain he wouldn’t understand half of it even if he spoke the language.

They sit like that for a long time, drawing and having a pseudo-conversation with gestures and tone. Eventually Alejandra yawns widely and clambers up onto the small couch situated in the office. She dozes of almost instantly. Boyd stares at her with wonder. This tiny human being, an illegitimate Crowder, his niece. He strokes a lock of her dark hair from her face and tucks it behind her ear.

“She’s had a trying couple of days.” Meadows whispers. Boyd tears his eyes away from Alejandra and sees the officer looking at him curiously.

“I can only imagine.” Boyd murmurs. He returns his gaze to the child on the sofa and feels a rush of protectiveness. He wonders if this is how new parents feel when they see their children for the first time, knowing they would do anything for the small human before them. Sitting on the floor of the police woman's office, leaning against a small, crappy sofa, Boyd begins to drift off to sleep, weirdly content for the first time in months.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is something I've been working on for a while, I decided to post the first chapter because I keep obsessing over edits and rewrites. Updates will be /super/ slow so sorry bout that. As always, feedback appreciated and thanks for reading!


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